STRAYS
by ShunKickShunKers
Summary: AU "Maria created this division to ensure my loyalty" Natasha whispered, carefully avoiding Clint's eyes. "SHIELD would protect Jeremy in exchange of my skill sets. If I worked for them, I would be allowed to raise my- our- son safely." She was sent to kill him. It didn't quite turn out that way. Clintasha, Steve/Maria, OCs Enjoy :)
1. Chapter 1

**I have a ton of other fics to be updated, but this one can't leave my mind. I'll try to update once a week (at least that's my objective ^^") **

**This story actually came out of a dream; just one part and then I built around (I'll pinpoint which chapter later on)...sometimes my mind really surprises me :s **

**No betas, so all mistakes are mine. **

**Enjoy!**

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**STRAYS**

***Prologue***

The _Jardins du Luxembourg_ were in full bloom. It wasn't the most private place existing, but some copses were large enough to shield a bench or two. The weather wasn't quite warm but warm enough to keep tourists flooring on the chairs around the main basin. Had she been here on vacation, Maria Hill would have probably chosen a spot to stretch her legs. But she wasn't, so she kept walking. It had been a very long month: three major international threats had to be taken of, minor fiascos within the Helicarrier, Agent Barton -Clint, her best friend -was still recovering from his latest injuries...

And just yesterday she had jumped into a plane for Paris. The reason?

The Black Widow had been spotted twice at the Luxembourg. Finding her had been Hill's quest for the past nine months and she wouldn't let any opportunity slip.

The assassin known as Natalia Romanova was currently sitting on a bench, right under the shade and behind one of the statues of a French Queen. If Hill hadn't been looking for her specifically, she wouldn't have noticed her at all. The young woman had died her hair brown, wore a plain dark blue tunic and black leggings. And she was currently trying to appease a crying baby. Hill tightened her fists and stiffened. If her suspicions had been right, then…

She took a deep breath and melted into the role of a mere passerby, admiring the gardens. As she approached the Widow, she heard her whispering in English:

"Please be quiet. You're safe, everything's fine, so please be quiet."

The baby looked about one month old, perhaps less, but clearly determined to make a fuss and embarrass his/her mother. Said mother looked truly exhausted. Reports stated that the Widow could spot an enemy's gaze a mile away. Either the intel overestimated her abilities, or the young woman was too tired to keep her guard up. The brunette would bet on the latter.

_"Please"_ Romanova repeated, her voice wavering. "You're safe."

She started humming a song, rocked back and forth, holding her baby close to her chest. Hill watched in bewilderment a tear forming on the corner of the assassin's eye and slowly glided along her cheek. She was exhausted and also scared Hill realized. The Black Widow may be a fearless assassin, but Natalia Romanova was still barely twenty. Having a baby at her age and situation was scary.

The medical letter torn into pieces she found in Clint's bathroom back then had to be genuine. Romanova was pregnant when she left Barton bleeding on the carpet. Was that child Barton's, and why did she keep it were other questions to be answered, but not today. She vaguely wondered how the assassin had managed to hide all this time.

Focusing on the task at hand, she walked up to Romanova and said:

"Maybe you should take a few layers off; looks like this kid is about to suffocate."

The young woman nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the unexpected voice. Hill watched her assessing her as a threat or not. For once, Hill was glad they had never met in person before.

"You say he's too warm?" Natalia asked eventually. Maria took the question for an invitation and sat next to her on the bench.

"May I?" she asked, hands opened in the baby's direction. Romanova hesitated, but in the end turned the baby towards her. The brunette pressed her palm against the toddler's forehead, frowned, then touched his chin. "Definitively warming up. You should definitively take a few things off."

"Thanks" the younger woman replied gratefully as she just started undoing her child's jacket. "I tried everything before but…"

Hill waved her thanks away.

"It's all right; everyone's got to start somewhere. Mine gave me a lot of trouble too when they were born."

The tidbit of information caught the redhead's interest.

"You have kids?"

"Twins girls. They'll turn two in a couple of months." Hill said fondly before nodding towards the baby. "What's that little one's name?"

"Jeremy." The Russian replied. As she pulled off the extra clothes, the baby's face turned towards the brunette. Hill's heart skipped a beat as a realization crossed her mind. The face was definitively Romanova's, but those big blue eyes…No mistake here, she was facing Clint's son. The moment Romanova retrieved the jacket, the baby stopped fussing, stared at her, and there were no doubts left. Natalia smiled slightly when he waved his arms aimlessly.

"He's kinda restless." Hill observed.

"Has been from the start." The young woman muttered. She poked the child's nose and made goo-goo sounds to him. The baby replied with odd, content noises. Hill couldn't help but smile.

"He must be giving you trouble."

"A little." Natalia admitted. "But he's worth it. I know he'll be in the end."

Hill wondered what the assassin had planned with the baby, if she truly believed she could raise it, or would give him away. Romanova suddenly grabbed one of his small hands and tugged upwards. The baby shrieked weakly in protest but didn't put up a big fuss. Instead, he blinked sleepily. The corner of the brunette's lips tugged upwards, very subtly; the fearless assassin looked so _normal_!

"He looks a lot like his mom." Hill said quietly, bracing herself for what would come next: "But he has Clint's eyes."

The words had barely left her mouth that Romanova had jumped off the bench and was reaching for a weapon, but Hill was fast too and caught her free hand in a tight grip. Natalia gritted her teeth; her right arm was busy holding Jeremy, she couldn't pick up a weapon without dropping him. Given the protective behavior she had, Hill assumed safely that she wouldn't.

"Who are you?" the Widow hissed, eyes narrowed and waiting for an opening. Hill kept an impassible mask on her features.

"I'd recommend you not to put up a fuss. People will be watching."

"Then let them watch."

"I'm not here as your enemy Natalie." Hill went on, imperturbable. The younger woman's eyes widened in surprise. She had only been going by 'Natalie' for eight months and not many women knew her then; especially women she had never met.

"You're Maria Hill." the redhead whispered, somehow recognizing her. Hill nodded. Now, Romanova knew she was facing not only a friend of Clint, but also the second in command of SHIELD, one of the most powerful underground organization existing. Running away now would be a stupid move.

"Whatever you have in mind for me, don't harm him." The redhead whispered, her one-arm tightening on her son. "He's innocent."

Hill snorted at the very thought of harming a child.

"You seduced and nearly killed one of our best agents and a close friend of mine. Believe me when I say I really want to put a bullet through your skull right now." Romanova tensed further. "But I don't touch kids. Actually, there is something I'd like to discuss with you." Hill added slowly, "When I release you, you will sit and listen to my offer. If you take off, I won't stop you but next time, I won't be so lenient. Got it?"

Romanova glared at her but reluctantly nodded. Hill released her and the redhead immediately wrapped her arms protectively around her son. Hill thought it was a very good sign and couldn't help a predatory grin to grow on her face. If everything worked out as she wanted, SHIELD would gain an incredible asset.

"What are we talking about?"

Hill waited until the assassin was seated to join her and started:

"I'm starting a new program named STRAYS, and I think you'd be the perfect test subject."

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**I hope the characters weren't too OOC...Tell me what you thought please :3?**

**Next chapter will be a big jump in the future. But there will be flashbacks from time to time...Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the reviews ! :D**

**Unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine ^^" **

**Enjoy!**

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**STRAYS**

***Chapter 1***

**8 years later... **

"_It's kinda shady in here. All the spiders and crawling stu –ew! I think I stepped on a roach!" _

Had Natasha Romanoff aka the Black Widow been facing her partner, she would have rolled her eyes in exasperation. But Milla Jovova, aka the great Mercenary Alice, was not easily ignored. Especially given her exasperating habit of reporting everything she saw.

"_Hey Widow, copy me?" _

"I am currently infiltrating the headquarters of a very creepy factory to copy and destroy a world-threatening computer program; while all you have to do is wait for my signal to blow up the basement. I'd like to concentrate." She replied dryly –and quietly. While the said factory was almost deserted due to an upcoming transfer, the ex-Russian spy did not want to be caught by the few guards there. The air vents were large and high enough to go by unnoticed so far, but it didn't make it a walk in the park either. The lack of surveillance was odd though.

At first, she shouldn't have been there; a team from SHIELD had been sent in a few days before, but they had gone MIA. After a first attempt of infiltration, the security should have been upgraded. Perhaps the main intel had been moved already, so they didn't feel threatened. That would be bad, Natasha thought again. She spared a quick prayer that Oliver's virus would be strong enough to restore recently deleted data so they wouldn't need a to make a third infiltration or attempt cyber-attack, because _Jesus_, that man could hack into _any_ computer for fun, but when given a special assignment he just wouldn't stop _bitchin_-

"_All business; you're no fun Red." _Alice's voice brought her back to present and Natasha focused on the task at hand; trying to remember which vent led to the third floor and which led to the lunch room.

"You're distracting me. Keep going on and I'll ask Hill to be assigned to the detonator next time."

"_You wouldn't!_" Alice gasped in indignation –both women knew how much the Ukrainian mercenary hated infiltration and both knew only Maria Hill had enough authority to make Alice obey. She was their supervisor after all.

"I _would_ and _will_ if you don't shut up." And before she could interrupt and protest, Natasha added: "I'll cash in all the favors she owes me if needed."

"_Fine"_ came he grumbling answer. _"I'll be quiet. How long till you get there?" _

"Give me half an hour."

It took her exactly twenty seven minutes to access the control room, two to put the few monitoring people there out of order, three to hack into the system and copy the information she had been after. While the files were downloading, Natasha took a quick tour around the office, checking out the paperwork and any handwritten paper if anything would come in handy. Her eyes set on a large plan of the building on which annotations and scribbling had been added recently. She couldn't decipher half of them –not her fault, the handwriting was just _so_ bad- but she managed to understand a couple of words, like _cell_ and _lab_ and _tests _and _subjects_, next to a room she didn't recognize. She had been given a map of the building for infiltration, had memorized it, yet she couldn't place that particular place.

The hacking took a couple of minutes longer than she expected, but no-one came to bother her so she swept through the surveillance cameras to tried to catch a glimpse of that room. Moments later, nothing appeared and an odd feeling came to nag her. She activated her communicator.

"Alice?"

"_Hey killjoy. So, can I unleash my babies now?" _

"Soon; I'm going to ask you to snoop around first."

Pause. Natasha smirked as she pictured the puzzlement on her partner's face.

"_Snoop around?" _

"Yeah, I found an odd room in the basement on a different map of the building. I can't find any video feed but I have a bad feeling about it. You're positioned not far from there; I think you should check it out first before exploding everything."

"_I'm not the best in wild exploration Red." _Alice replied with an annoyed tone. The mercenary hated to be unprepared.

"No need to be subtle; that part isn't under strict surveillance. Just avoid the few guards, peek in and if it's no good just drill it."

"_Now you speak English." _The redhead could _see_ the pleased and devilish grin on her partner's face. Alice's eagerness to make quote 'everything go boom' end quote was sometimes frightening.

"I'm sending you the coordinates. If the entrance if not obvious check for a hidden door or passage, I want to make sure we aren't leaving anything behind. And call me if you find something."

"_Will do Red. Stay out of troubles yourself."_

The files had done downloading. She slipped the electronic device on which the data was recorded now in her pocket, made sure the ones left on the computer were destroyed, and exited the room. Natasha was halfway out of the building when Alice contacted her again.

"_Hey Widow?"_ she had Natasha's full attention the moment she used her codename._ "I think some poor guys owe you big right now."_

"What do you mean?"

"_That little side-room you sent me to, to snoop around? Well guess that mechanical weapons weren't the only thing those fuckers were working on."_

"Again, what do you mean?" Natasha asked again, feeling she would not like the answer; Alice's tone was deeply serious in extreme cases only.

"_You know the guys from SHIELD? The team that got MIA? The ones we were sent to clean up after? Methinks they've been experimented on. Bring your ass down here; you'll get the big picture."_

* * *

Two days later, there was a huge commotion on the Helicarrier, rumors spread about a team that had been captured and tortured by a madman to the point where they couldn't recognize their friends and allies. Whoever started that rumor wasn't far from the truth.

"I can't believe he tried to kill me" the blonde woman whispered, staring at her the large screens. The cameras they were linked to all showed different angles of a sandy-haired man in the corner of the infirmary room. His body was tensed, crouched, ready to attack anything that came too close to him. Anything and anyone, for the matter, which was why Bobbi Morse stood halfway beaten up, covered with stitches and bruises her ex-husband had inflicted on her.

"Agent Barton is under the influence of a heavy drug" Nick Fury, the Director of SHIELD and Barton's boss, stated. "Doctors thought a familiar figure would be enough to lower his guard."

"But again, how did that happen!" Bobbi shrieked, fists tight and resting over her hips. "An OP turned wrong, I get it; but someone explain me why Clint is acting like this! And why is he still alive when the rest of his team…"

"Barton was injected last and not fully. The agent who found them managed to neutralize the scientist before he ended his procedure." Maria Hill's voice interrupted them. The Deputy Director was carrying a report with the latest results of their lab and a syringe. "We have the antidote sir."

At least, they had managed to place Barton in a high-surveillance room where the cameras were well protected. Even though they couldn't get close to him, they could watch him. They all knew that even weaponless, their best SHIELD agent could still do great damage with his bare hands.

"He won't let anyone approach within ten feet. Past that limit, he'll attack." Morse mumbled. "What are we going to do?"

"I don't think we have much choice" Fury grunted, crossing his arms. "Not many people can overpower him and the few who do aren't on board. We have to wait until the drug wears off."

"And by that time, Agent Barton will be dead of exhaustion, starvation or dehydration or all the above. His mind will ignore his body's urges till he's out." Hill snapped. Fury raised a severe eyebrow at her but let the comment pass; he knew his deputy and Barton were close friends. She pulled her cell phone from her belt and dialed a number. "All we need is someone to come close enough to Barton to drug him, right?"

"That's the idea." Fury approved. "What are you doing?"

"Calling a STRAYS."

Both tensed.

"Is it really necessary?" Morse asked warily.

"One of them is on board to give her report on the late mission. And _I don't think we have much of a choice_, do we?" she retorted dryly, using Fury's words against him.

The STRAYS team was composed with turned rogues, extremely skilled at their job and was only used as backup for emergencies. Still, Fury didn't like resorting to them because he thought them unreliable and unpredictable; or maybe because he had no control over them. For some reason, only Hill had.

Granted, Hill had been the one to initiate such an insane project and dealt a lot with those agents. But he had no idea if the reason they listened to her was due to the fact she was their supervisor, or if they genuinely respected her. Even Fury had very little say in STRAYS business –Hill was particularly protective of 'her team'-and he would rather leave it that way. Although he'd never admit it, but that super underground group put him ill-at-ease. The agents he monitored and sent on the field were the bests but in comparison, each STRAYS was a masterpiece –or a monstrous weapon, depending on the point of view.

Brief clipped words were exchanged over the phone in Russian –Fury only recognized the word 'hurry'- before Hill snapped her mobile shut and stared intensely at the screen. Another thing that put him on edge; half of the team were foreigners and had given Hill a certain fever for language, or rather had indirectly forced her into learning them. While he knew bits and pieces of French and Russian, Fury knew squat about Japanese and German (except the obvious military words); and when his second-in-command started dialoging in a foreign language with those people…to make it short, he didn't like being left out.

Soon after, the door slid open and a beautiful redhead entered. She walked in self-confidently, a backpack nonchalantly hanging over her shoulder. She was wearing black tight trousers, a red shirt molding her womanly curves and a pale brownish jacket. Her short hair was loose over her shoulders and her face unreadable, aside from that little side smirk over her pouty lips that made her look more like a model than a soldier. It made Fury uncomfortable; she had the self-confidence of a woman who could wipe them out without breaking a sweat, and who knew that they knew it. The short heels of her shoes echoed in the small room as she stepped closer. A couple of technicians working nearby turned on her passing and followed her till their head couldn't twist anymore. Hill waited until she had reached them to speak:

"He needs an injection of this." The Lieutenant held out a needle and a tube containing a liquid. "The poison is messing with his head; he can't make the distinction between friend and foe."

"Roger that." The woman replied with a rich, seductive voice. "Any specific warning?"

"_He can't make distinction between friend and foe_." Hill repeated more intensely. "And Hawkeye is one of our bests."

Something changed in the newcomer's posture; her shoulders tensed so slightly untrained eyes would have missed it, and her hand momentarily froze when she raised it to take the needle and potion. The redhead's gaze lingered over Hill, eyes clouded with uncertainty. She asked a quick question in Russian, to which the lieutenant replied with a tight smile.

"Time is running out. I do with what I have."

The woman considered her answer, and eventually took the serum and needle and slipped it in a small bag tied to her belt.

"Roger that."

The tone was no longer playful but strained and concentrated. She seemed to hesitate a second before kicking off her heels and slipping out of her bag perfect black combat boots. Fury thought they were worn off and heavy, but knew they'd offer much more stability during a fight at close range. The redhead also got rid of her jacket and handed it to Hill. The deputy director took it without thinking twice and set in on the table. She finished the dressing up by tying her hair back and walked towards the entrance.

"Who is she?" Bobbi asked with a hint of anger and anxiety the moment the door closed behind. Hill ignored her tone and crossed her arms, eyes not leaving Natasha's figure as the redhead appeared on screen. "Who is she, Hill?"

"One of the STRAYS. As for her identity, it's none of your business."

"My ex-husband is trapped down there and he didn't even recognize me! He will attack that woman without second thought and she went in there without a gun!"

"This agent's best weapon is her body, Morse." Hill replied without even looking at her.

"He is dangerous right now" Fury added, frowning at her. He knew Hill was more than capable of making calls on her own, but he knew exactly who she had sent in and did not like it. "I don't want him to be executed by…"

"My Agent will not kill him." Hill snapped dryly. The use of 'my' didn't go unnoticed. "She is competent and skilled and I will not allow you to doubt my choices. Now Agent Morse, and you sir, with all due respect will you shut up and let her do her job?"

Both Fury and Bobbi gaped at the Deputy Director; never, ever had they heard the woman speak like this –especially in front of her boss. Hill ignored their wary looks, crossed her arms and stared at the screen. She tried not to let the worry show on her face; Barton was a close friend and she better than anyone knew the history between him and the redhead. She just hoped that, by sending Natasha Romanoff to neutralize Barton, she had made the right call.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry, update a day late. Thanks for the reviews and following : ) it always makes my day!**

**Please read and enjoy!**

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**STRAYS **

***Chapter 2***

Shadows were lurking around him. Faceless enemies were circling him and Clint Barton couldn't seem to find a way to lay a hand on them. They always seemed to be a step ahead of him, anticipate his moves, knowing where and when he'd attack. They had managed to isolate him in a dark room, weaponless and without his hearing aids he had to rely on his instincts alone. How had they managed to trap him there, he still wondered…A sudden shift in the air informed him of the arrival of a new adversary. He tensed and readied himself. Whoever was coming, he'd get him and all the others and get out of there.

The newcomer approached cautiously –so they knew how dangerous he could be. His enemy sprung forwards, tried to aim for the head. He dodged and threw a punch that missed. A kick hit him in the abdomen and he was thrown on the floor. He felt a new fist arrive and dodged swiftly, kicking his opponent's leg underneath him. Surprisingly, his enemy did not fall, but Barton still managed to catch his arm and pin him against the closest wall. Soft hair brushed his face. A faint scent of lilac hit his nostrils and he momentarily froze.

He knew that scent. He knew that scent too well. No matter how many years would go by, he would never forget.

"Nat?"

His hesitation earned him a punch in the temple and he hit something hard behind. A hard leg in his ribs cut his breath and a last hit on the back of his head sent him crashing on the ground. Falling halfway knocked him out, but Barton didn't lose consciousness. His body felt heavy and unmovable, his mind, oddly, cleared a little and his vision returned; a little blurry, but enough for him to see a redhead woman cautiously leaning over him. His chest arched, but from a different pain.

"Nat, 'that you?"

She stood there, stared at him in silence. The seconds ticked, and he was soon able to distinguish her face better. Her hair was shorter than the last time he'd seen her, she had lost the features of youth that she still bore when he first met her –she was barely nineteen back then. She was an older looking Natalie Rushman, an older version of _his_ Natalie. But she was still as stunning. A faint smile appeared on her face.

"Hey" she whispered.

"Hey back." He wanted to touch her. He wanted to feel if she was real or an illusion. An illusion probably, since it had been nine years and her file was secured at a higher level that he could ever hope reaching so he had no freaking idea where she could be. Plus, there was no way she'd smile at him after all this time. And then, why would she come back to him anyway? "So, you're here to kill me again?"

Illusion-Natalie's faint smile disappeared.

"Don't be an idiot." She replied, and he felt a shiver through his bones- oh God he had missed her voice. She picked up something from her belt –a needle and a sample of brown liquid. Clint chuckled weakly.

"Well you can, y'know. I'm not going to stop you. Not that I think I can anyway, 'can hardly move." He muttered, fixing her intensely. "And as long as you're the one doing the killing, it's okay with me. Just don't miss this time, 'kay?"

He thought he saw a flare in illusion-Natalie's eyes as they shortly traveled over his chest and back on his face.

"I am not here to kill you, Clint" she snapped, glaring at him. He chuckled again, liking the way she looked when angry. A true spitfire. Was it normal, he wondered, to feel so giddy even after all these years?

The needle dipped into his neck but he barely felt it –his whole attention was on her. Her hand –gloveless fingers- brushed his forehead. Her skin was cool against his and he closed his eyes, reeling in the feeling. He thought he'd be disgusted if he imagined her touching him again, that the resentment and anger would be too strong. He surprised himself by craving some more. Nat's hands were always soft and tender. Unless they were in bed, getting rough -then her nails would dig deep into his back and he'd proudly wear the marks for a full week.

"Damn, you have a high fever." she muttered as she pulled back her hand.

"Do you get to play my nurse?" He shouldn't be joking. He should hate her with all his guts. He did hate her with all his guts. Where had the resentment gone?

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Barton."

"I thought that was the reason why you loved me." There was no reply this time, just her keeping busy doing whatever. Barton closed his eyes, pushed aside the pang in his chest. That was why he was a stupid fool; he still wanted to cling at her, even though he knew now that she never reciprocated his feelings. "So, is there another sucker you got your hands on?"

"Stop acting like a kid" was her sharp reply. His environment wavered and invited him to join darkness.

"I knew you were here to kill me." He muttered, somewhat amused. At least everything was going smoothly. Last time had been painful and messy and a pain to clean up afterwards. "Black Widow, my angel of death."

"The injection was an antidote; it's supposed to make you sleep off the virus in your system." Illusion-Natalie replied blankly. "You will wake up in a couple of hours with a hell of a headache but you'll be fine."

"Will you be there?"

"You know that I won't." She paused, then added softly: "You won't even remember, so it's oka-"

With the remaining strength he had, he caught her hand and squeezed it. Sweat formed on his forehead as he fought to stay awake a little longer. She was an illusion, but a nice illusion. It had been a while since he'd last had one, and so vivid.

"Then I don't want to wake up." Her eyes widened in worry, and he smiled. "Living without you was just…I love you so much Nat; you have no idea how much I miss you."

Were those tears he saw forming in the corner of her eyes? Nah, he thought. His Nat never…

She leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth. His breath got caught in his throat when he felt her soft lips brush his, tenderly, like she always did when he needed comfort. Damn the woman and her special creepy body-language-bordering-on-mind-reading skill. No wonder why she was such a good spy.

"I love you Clint." She tightened her grip on his hand and bent forwards, closer to his ear. "When you wake up, come and find me. We'll be waiting."

He blinked. Her breath felt very real, her scent was overwhelming, but he was losing consciousness. He squeezed back tightly, his heartbeat suddenly racing when he understood.

"You're real." She smiled weakly, her free hand caressed his forehead tenderly. The realization made him panic; he didn't want to lose it. He didn't want to lose her, not yet! "You're…"

Darkness was too overpowering this time. With a last protest against fate, he closed his eyes and drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

_The train compartment wasn't crowded and for that, Barton was thankful. A hit in snowy mountains was the last place he had expected to be sent, but apparently SHIELD has no qualms about the location when it came to putting down a war lord. Now he understood why Maria had given him a bag containing a suit and a white shirt; his SHIELD uniform would have been way out of place in here. Still, he hadn't expected his exit road to be a train in motion. _

_After changing in a secluded bathroom, he headed towards the lunch wagon and looked around. Now, how was he supposed to blend in without appearing suspicious?_

"_Hey handsome." The speaker was a young woman sitting at a corner table, alone with a Caesar salad. He raised an eyebrow at her but let the corner of his mouth tug up. She was in her early twenties, he evaluated quickly, long wavy red hair falling over her shoulders, piercing green eyes and pouty red lips stretched in a sexy smile that hardly disguised her intentions. "You alone right now?"_

"_Unfortunately" Barton replied. She shifted in her seat, her tight, red T-shirt pressing closely against her lovely breasts._

"_Why don't you come and keep me company? I'm kinda bored." _

"_You? Bored? I doubt a cute girl like you find it hard to get some distraction."_

"_If you're talking about the bozos, I already tried. They are boring. So?"_

_Barton took the bait and sat down. He had time to spend anyway and no-one would suspect two people involved in a conversation. He ordered lunch, they chatted a bit. Her name was Natalie Rushman, he introduced himself as Jeremy Brandt. She flirted and he replied easily, but when he said he was on a business trip to New York, she shook her head._

"_You're not from this train. I saw you jump from the top of the tunnel earlier." She said nonchalantly. Barton didn't stop chewing although a hint of panic spread in his chest. He did grin though, as if not taking her words seriously yet deciding to play along._

"_You have a bright imagination sweetheart. Let's say, what if I was what you just said, why invite me at your table?" _

"_Figured you'd need help blending in." she replied with a shrug before picking another slice of pie. "I'm not scared of you, and like I said, I'm bored." Her knowing eyes narrowed in amusement, and Barton just felt she knew why he was here. Perhaps she did, or at least suspected. _

"_Shall I say thanks?" he asked sarcastically. Natalie smiled sweetly and shrugged again. Just his luck, he thought, to fall on a young woman who had no problem helping a potential criminal. _

"_Not yet." She nodded outside and he followed her gaze. Suddenly, he realized he must have been really distracted by the redhead for not noticing it earlier. The train was slowing down. People were starting to ask questions and the staff mentioned an accident on the road. Barton's senses got on high alert as he thought he recognized one of his followers running around. Natalie didn't bulge, but her eyes were fixed on his face._

"_Need a better place to hide, honey?" _

_He had no idea why he blurted the next question, but Barton did anyway:_

"_You have somewhere in mind?"_

_The mischievous grin held some serious promise, and he felt something inside his guts twist in reaction._

"_Ever watched North by Northway?"_

* * *

Natasha still wondered what in hell had pushed her to whisper those words in Barton's ear. She had no claim over him, wasn't sure she wanted him to find her. Her departure had left him broken and she knew how much he had suffered; how the almost-year she had spent with him had influenced him. In a twisted part of her mind, a little whisper replied it was fair game. He had changed her life drastically as well after all.

Alice –or rather Milla, as she called herself when off-duty- was waiting for her when she stepped out of the base. The ex-Ukrainian mercenary raised an eyebrow at her sight, feeling her partner was upset.

"What did the boss want?"

"The surviving agent from that last mission was still halfway drugged." Natasha replied slowly. "I was the only one strong enough on the base to…stop him."

"And that's turning you all upside down? Nah, what's truly bothering you?"

The redhead leaned back against the passenger seat and crossed her arms. True enough, her heartbeat had yet calmed down and she needed to be in control. Still, talking to her partner was the best way to cope. After all, Milla had enrolled in the STRAYS team for the same reasons she had. She would understand.

"The guy we saved? He was Hawkeye."

"Ah" was Milla's eloquent reply. They had been partners long enough to know each other's history, and Natasha had mentioned her affair with the agent during a night discussion. "Did he recognize you?"

"He told me he still loved me. I told him to come and find me." Milla shook her head in disbelief.

"You're nuts Red. What will you do if he does?" The redhead's mouth thinned into a line and her eyes narrowed. Her shoulders tensed.

"He was halfway knocked off by drugs so he won't remember anyway." Natasha muttered before adding softly: "But if he did, I'd tell him the truth, about the reason I nearly killed him."

"And what about Jeremy?"

Natasha closed her eyes and rested her head against the headboard. She sighed heavily, trying to modulate her racing heartbeat. When she didn't get an answer right away, Milla turned the ignition on and drove off. It wasn't until they left the base that the redhead spoke:

"The kid would be thrilled. And Hawkeye deserves to meet his son."

Milla snorted and took a left turn.

"You're a goddamn optimist, Red. Now get some rest, I'll wake you up when we get home."

* * *

**Did you guys recognize who I took Alice's character from? Next chapter up next Friday!**


	4. Chapter 4

**So much for updating every Friday. Sorry for the delay, I'll be on time for the next ^^" **

**I only own my twisted mind here. Read and enjoy :)**

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**STRAYS**

***Chapter 3***

Jeremy Romanoff was no ordinary child. At first glance, he appeared normal; he was your average eight year old kid, sandy curly hair with blue eyes (his father's, or so mom said) and a good-looking face (his mother's, and he tended to agree). Yet, many things separated him from other kids his age. Staring with his striking intelligence. He was eight, yes, and had jumped into 5th grade the moment the teachers realized he was utterly bored in 2nd grade. He could do better, of course, but he liked 5th grade. His friends were there, and teachers tended to dislike students smarter than them. And again, mom always said he had time before being dragged into the adult world.

Then, there was the matter of his family. Or surrogate family. Two aunts, three uncles and ten cousins living together in a huge building divided in separate apartments they nicknamed 'The Residence'. His mom and he had a big apartment of their own in the building, but since she was often out for work, Jeremy often lived with an aunt or uncle. Uncle Oliver mostly, since he never got out…

"M. Romanoff, are you with us?"

Jeremy stiffened on his seat and realized his teacher and the whole class was staring at him.

"Sorry, ma'am" he muttered, lowering his eyes. Mrs. Carter nodded and carried on with her lesson. Both knew this was just a way of asserting the teacher's authority over the boy. Jeremy might often be lost in his own little world, but he aced all tests every time so as long as he pretended to listen, Mrs. Carter mostly let him be. Besides, Jeremy liked Mrs. Carter, so apologizing was fair game. From the corner of his eye, he spotted Gillian wincing and next to her, her sister Sophie rolled her eyes. He replied with a nonchalant shrug. For some reason since he'd join their class, the Hill twins had been extremely protective towards him. He didn't mind though. His classmates thought he was a freak and would have teased or bully him a lot more had it not been for the girls.

He didn't need protection though. His mom was a special top secret agent in a top secret organization. All of his aunts and uncles were special top secret agents and the Hill twins' mother was their super secret boss. He knew that because his mom had told him when he had asked her why she was gone so often and sometimes so long. She had made him pinkie-swear that he'd keep it a secret and to bribe him further, had taught him how to fight. Jeremy knew he could take down the bullies if he wanted to, but mom had also insisted he didn't start a fight if he could avoid it and he wasn't a violent kid to begin with. Hence the Hill twins overprotective behavior.

The teasing was always about his physical appearance (girly face they said, because yeah fine, he had his mom's features) or his nonexistent father. True, Jeremy had grown without someone to call 'dad', but he had grown surrounded by a very loving mom and people who liked him. While his mom had no problem talking about _him_, she hadn't told Jeremy the whole story, just bits and parts. But the kid was patient; he knew he'd have his answers in time.

The bell rang. The teacher ordered silence and gave them last instructions before setting them free. Gillian waited for him –her sister wanted out ASAP and ran out ASAP- and walked him through the door. As they stepped out of the school yard and out of the gates, Jeremy wondered who would bring them home today. He was about to ask Gillian when he spotted a flash of red hair in the crowd. A huge grin grew over his face.

"Mom!"

Natasha spotted him seconds after his cry. Her boy was there, standing next to Gillian –or was it Sophie? She could never make the difference from afar. She matched his smile with one of her own, took off her sunglasses. She had reached the Residence –the STRAYS unofficial living quarters- a little after noon, giving her enough time to wash up and tell Oliver she'd be picking up her son today. She had been gone nearly three weeks this time and missed him like crazy. So when he came running at her, she didn't hesitate and crouched with her arms wide open to pull him into a tight-crushing hug. Needless to say, she'll be spoiling him rotten in the upcoming days.

"Hey ребенок, how are you?"

Jeremy grinned as he pulled back and stared down at his mother. She was still crouching to be at his eye level, her hands holding his smaller ones tightly; her way of saying that everything was okay.

"Fine мама I didn't know you were coming back today."

"I finished earlier than planned." She stood up and messed with his hair. The boy shrieked in protest but the laughing in his eyes washed the seriousness away.

"Hey Natasha!" Both Jeremy and the woman glanced on the right and realized the Hill twins had just joined them. The redhead smiled and bent over to hug them. "Is Oliver still coming or are we going with you?" Gillian asked right away.

"No, I'm just here for Jer." The redhead replied apologetically. The faint disappointment on both faces told her they were hoping their mother had managed to get out of work early too. "Sorry girls. But Maria will be there for dinner; I think she mentioned going to the restaurant." A glint of excitement cheered the girls a little. In the background, Natasha spotted a plump man already surrounded by two kids waving at her. "Oliver is waiting for you over there. I'll see you girls later."

They parted ways –Natasha kept an eye open to make sure the twins were well under Oliver's supervision- before taking her son's hand and walking to the car. Jeremy jumped into the back seat and once all the doors were shut, asked:

"How long are you staying this time?"

Natasha glanced at him through in the mirror.

"Until I get another call, I don't have any trips planned for the near future." He beamed. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go?"

He hummed, a pensive expression over his face, but she knew it was faked; her boy always wanted to do the same things when she was around and being permissive.

"Gym, shooting range, McDonalds, gym again, the baseball stadium, the couch to watch TV and park for soccer." Pause. "In whatever order" Natasha laughed.

"We can do McDonalds this evening. I thought you'd wanted to go to the amusement park; I heard there were quite a few shooting ranges there."

"Seriously?" his eyes glittered with sudden envy. "I didn't even know there was an amusement park!"

"About two hours away. I know I said none of that during the week, but tomorrow is Saturday and you can sleep in." She paused and winked in the review. "I think Oliver mentioned a couple of fun houses too."

"Then what the hec-" Natasha raised an eyebrow and Jeremy grinned sheepishly. "What are we waiting for?"

The redhead smiled and turned the engine on. The boy settled comfortably on the seat and started humming off-tune along with the radio and Natasha pushed any negative thoughts of Clint or her work in the back of her mind. She was firmly decided to enjoy her time with her son until Hill called her back in.

* * *

_One week later_

"I'm quite sure you're not to be discharge until at least another week, Agent."

Barton glanced up and rolled his eyes inwardly. After being stunned by morphine and spending hell to make his muscles work again, the archer had been planning to slip in his clothes and sneak out of the medical ward. Unfortunately, fate had other plans in mind –or Maria Hill knew him too well. Not an hour went by without someone stepped through the threshold to check on him. After the nurses came Bobbi his ex-wife, then his handler Coulson, then his boss Fury, then his colleague Jasper, then his poker buddies Marisa, Harrison and Wayne, then the cook Jane, then the pilot Higgins…It was only a matter of time before _the_ man showed up.

Tall, blue-eyed, blonde, awesome leadership skills, Steve Rogers was one of the biggest secret of SHIELD. Rogers was otherwise known as Captain America, a hero during WW2 who had disappeared in a plane crash. After years of research, SHIELD had found him caught in the ice, had revived him and hired him once he had become tired of brooding and decided to return to the modern world.

Barton and he had been partnered occasionally and surprisingly, the combination had worked out pretty well. Rogers was no assassin, but he was reliable backup and a planner. After three years of cooperation, the archer considered the man as one of the few friends he could trust implicitly, and according to Steve's tendency to hang out with him outside of work, so did he.

"Nice to see you too Rogers."

Steve smiled and stepped inside the room.

"I'm supposed to supervise your second debriefing, since you couldn't recall much last time. Bear with me ten minutes and I'll help you out for two hours."

"Let me guess, Hill issued the order?" Steve laughed and nodded. "She thought I'd be more cooperative with you?"

"Was she wrong?"

"That woman knows me too well." Barton grumbled, sitting on the medical bed, back against the wall. "But still can't remember everything."

"We'll start with what you do." Steve's easy-going smile and accommodating behavior annoyed the archer, but at the same time found it somewhat comforting. Phil usually did the debriefing, but he had a particularly blunt approach that Barton could do without today. Steve let him gather his thoughts with patience, let him find his words. "Start with the trip. How did it go? Did you see anything unusual?"

The memories were a bit vague but Barton managed to gather a few things. They were a team of four, charged to retrieve intel from a secret chemical factory. The flight hadn't been very smooth; half of the team slept and Evans looked ready to puke at any moment –that guy could pull any stunts with any wheeled vehicle, but never handled quinjets very well. After the landing, they had made their way to the industry and infiltration had gone without a hitch. It wasn't until they had reached the control room that…

"They were waiting for us." Barton muttered. "About a dozen guards inside, same number waiting to block our exit road. Not exceedingly trained, but good enough to take us down one by one. We didn't stand a chance."

"I see." Steve said gently. "What about after?"

The man frowned as he summoned his memories. They were perhaps clearer than a few days ago, but still based on impressions.

"Things are kinda fuzzy. They were wearing white blouses, goggles. Couldn't see their face. Just remember the scent, the pain, the guys screaming." Barton would have never let the vulnerability slip in his voice, but this was Steve. Steve had gone through his deal of shit and they were friends, he trusted him. "Next thing I know, I wake up in the SHIELD medical staring at the ceiling and Coulson's telling me I'm the only survivor."

"You can't remember anything else?"

Barton hesitated. For a fleeing moment, he was tempted to mention the flash of red and painful scent of lilac he caught in his dreams.

"No." he replied eventually.

Steve nodded, finished scribing some notes and stood up. Barton eyed him with curiosity.

"You did your part, my turn to hold on my word. Let's get you out of here."


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you for the reviews! Not much to say here, so I'll just let you read :) Un-beta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine.**

**Enjoy!**

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**STRAYS **

***Chapter 4***

The nurses had protested at first, but Steve Rogers had a way with people that amazed Barton. While he had been arguing with everyone that he was fine enough to walk down the corridor, all Steve needed to do was flash that dazzling smile of his and they had authorized him out in the freaking _yard_! He was wondering if he should ask for some tips for social interactions when Steve spoke up nervously:

"Listen, I know this might not be the right moment but…I need advice. It's about…this woman I like."

Barton raised a surprised eyebrow.

"You know, I'm pretty sure any woman would fall at your feet if you just ask."

Steve shook his head.

"Not this one. She's tough and I have no idea how to approach her. I mean, she would probably even shoot me if I asked her out the wrong way…I think she doesn't really like me."

"Wow, that chick actually exists and has a name?" Barton teased with a smirk. "Lemme guess, is it Carter?"

"Carter?"

"Sharon Carter, the liaison from England. She's a hardass on good days."

"Uh, no."

"Is it Elizabeth Ross? The General's daughter? She is a bit of a cold fish since her fiancé ran away when he turned into a green-raged monster."

"No, it isn't her and seriously Clint, you shouldn't be mocking the poor woman." Barton waved away his remark.

"Fine. Is it Beth? The waitress from…"

"It's Hill."

Barton's teasing smile left his face.

"What?"

Rogers winced under the sudden coldness in the other man's eyes.

"Yes, Maria Hill. Deputy Director, head of the STRAYS division. Thirty-five and mother of twins –whom you are the godfather, should I add. That very Hill." The archer crossed his arms and glared. Rogers suddenly swallowed hard. Okay, maybe he should have listened more carefully to the rumors about Barton being brotherly-overprotective towards the deputy director…but he wouldn't go down before pleading his case. "I didn't like her at first, I thought she was cold-hearted but" he added quickly when a murderous glint lightened in his friend's eyes. "After working with her I realized she had to act that way so people would take her seriously. She's a beautiful woman high in the hierarchy and carrying a lot of responsibilities, so I understand. And then I met her daughters once, at the park." Steve couldn't help but smile a little at the memory. "They pulled me into a game of tag. It was tiring but fun and I saw another side of her. She's so many things at once and yet…I thought I had a decent reading on human behavior but she keeps surprising me. I like her, really, and I'd like to try." Barton's gaze hadn't lost its intensity, but some hard lines had dissipated. Rogers took it for a good sign. "But like I said, she's not really into me."

Barton seemed to hesitate between punch or answer him. After two full minutes of stare-holding in complete silence, the archer made up his mind.

"Listen, as far as I'm concerned, you're a great guy. She let you play with Soph and Lily, so she must trust you at some point. But Maria's mind is complicated, even for me so I'm afraid you're on your own. Although if the twins like you that's definitively brownie points. Maria adores her kids, so…You know, I'm probably not the best guy to ask that kind of thing." Barton added with a shrug. "I screwed up every relationship I got into. Couldn't even keep the woman I loved."

"Agent Morse?" Steve asked, although given the way his friend talked about his ex-wife at times, he wondered if the man had truly loved her at all.

"No, before Bobbi." Barton paused, wondering whether he should tell the man that story or let it go. Steve wouldn't pressure if he stopped there, but at the same time, he felt that urge to spill his guts to someone trustworthy. For some reason, after his late awakening, _she_ had been haunting his mind. Perhaps talking about her would help him lift the odd feeling. "There was this woman. Natalie. I met her on a mission. We started dating and –well let's say I fell for her pretty hard pretty fast. I proposed to her eight months later."

Steve blinked.

"That was fast."

Barton snorted in agreement.

"I thought she was The One. A cute redhead with big green eyes. She was smart, strong and goddamn beautiful. You didn't want to mess with her and we had some good arguments and fights. But hell I cared; she was my breath of fresh air each time I needed one. She knew about my job, accepted it. Took a tool for the nightmares sometimes." He remembered waking up screaming, and she would be there, holding him throughout the night. The archer paused and stared at the ground hard.

"Those eight months were a total lie, but they were also the _bests_ of my life." he whispered. "I loved her and I think she...she might have liked me too."

"Might have?" Steve repeated, puzzled. "You mean you got involved with someone who wasn't in love with you?"

"At the time I thought she did. They were signs, things she said, the way she acted...I think she wasn't faking all the time. And the morning after I proposed, she shot me." Barton's features hardened. "I learned later that her real name was Natalia Romanova otherwise known as the Black Widow, a Russian spy. She had been on my tail to find out more about SHIELD and kill me."

Rogers blinked in puzzlement again.

"Black Widow you said? _The_ Black Widow?"

"Yeah; I know how to pick them." Rogers remained silent, but he looked like he wanted to add something. "What?"

"It's just –I thought…" he started before shaking his head. "You know what, it doesn't matter."

There was just something in the man's tone that made the archer suspicious. It was that particular tone Steve used when he knew something Barton would not like to hear. And it concerned the Black Widow.

"Rogers, now that you've said too much, better tell me all of it now."

The blonde man stared at her friend carefully. It wasn't often that Barton had that sudden gleam in his eyes. He figured he might as well say what he knew; the archer would find out on his own anyway and risk a bigger commotion.

"I asked Hill if I could read the report on your last mission. You know SHIELD sent in STRAYS agents to finish your job?"

"Yeah I know, Alice the Mercenary, she found u- wait you said _agents_? There was more than one?"

"A pair, actually. Alice had a partner codenamed Black Widow. She's the one who found you."

Barton swallowed hard, but didn't let the news faze him and Steve knew he might have committed a mistake. It was obvious the man still felt something strong towards the woman bearing that codename.

"Could be a coincidence." He said. "I mean, STRAYS are never on base and Maria goes to them directly for a mission. We don't know what they look li…"

"When I was at the park with Hill and her girls, a woman stopped by to drop a file" Steve cut, knowing he might as well tell everything. "I didn't really pay attention, but I am pretty sure she was a redhead about Hill's age. When I asked Ma- Hill about it, she told me I must be one of the few lucky men who got to meet the Black Widow on a job without being sho- "

Barton darted halfway through the corridor before the sentence was done. Steve blinked and dashed after him.

"Clint? Clint what's going on?"

He replied without looking back:

"Maria and I are going to have a little chat."

* * *

Jeremy lay back on his bed, arms crossed behind his head, eyes fixed on the ceiling. It turned out, Mom's stay lasted a week. Hill had ringed at the door three days ago, spoken about a potential new recruit and asked Mom to accompany her for a period of observation (he called it stalking). In any case, it was the start of spring break and Jeremy was left alone that day with nothing much to do. He supposed he should be glad he had an interrupted week with mom this time. But still, he was planning to go to the park with her to play soccer so had done all of his homework.

The boy sat on the bed and weighted his options: the twins were staying with their grandma since Hill was off on a mission. Irene, Arsene, Becky and baby Helena were too young to provide a decent distraction. Kevin was fifteen, but he was deep into schoolwork and his part-time job lately. Lucy was off with her father to Brazil…afterthought, every kid in the Residence was checked out. Jeremy went through the adults that had not been sent abroad: uncle Oliver was on his computer hacking on SHIELD's account, so couldn't be bothered. Aunt Milla was out on some recon, dragging uncle Sammuel in her wake and Naoto and Heine gone to shadow a politician for the day in Atlanta, so he couldn't go to the shooting range or access any STRAYS training facility. Once again he sighed in frustration; pent up energy was accumulating in his body and he needed an outlet or he'd be in a very bad mood tonight.

On impulse, Jeremy picked up a small bag where he put his mobile and a taser and headed out. The closest park was barely half an hour away and with some luck he'd come across some kids who needed a pal to complete a team or something. In whatever case, he was determined not to get bored.

It turned out to be a good idea. A bunch of his kids from his school was playing soccer in the park and immediately asked him if he wanted to jon. Uneven numbers tended to create tensions among his peers and thanks to his petite size, Jeremy was faster than most. Even the bullies would rather have him on their team than against them. Thankfully, any argument was quickly shut as he paired with two other kids from his class and kicked the ball to the self-proclaimed team leader. Soccer wasn't his favorite sport, but he wasn't half-bad at it and managed to score a goal within ten minutes of the game.

He suddenly felt the gaze of someone staring at them and stopped running to glance around. Everything seemed normal; people were walking, mothers were gossiping…but that one guy wearing sunglasses sitting on the bench was looking in their direction. Jeremy stared back at him with narrowed eyes. The stranger's gaze drifted away, and the kid's heart skipped a beat. He wasn't a hundred per cent sure, but that guy looked familiar. He had never met him face-to-face before, only through pictures, but the dirty blond hair, the compact and strong body, the face…

"Hey Jer! What'cha think you're doing!"

Gavin was calling after him as the ball rolled nearby him. Jeremy focused back on the game, determined to mark another goal and then take a closer look to the man. If he was right –and his guts rarely failed him –then he might be meeting his father today.

* * *

**Next chapter will definitively be published Friday. It's nearly done, all I need is brushing the details.**** Review please? They always make my day.**


	6. Chapter 6

**First, thank you for the reviews! And now, Clint and Jeremy meet…hope the reactions won't sound too OOC…**

**The work is unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine. Now read and enjoy :)**

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**STRAYS**

***Chapter 5***

Barton was pissed. As if she had sensed his upcoming arrival, Maria had left for a mission the very morning he and Steve had their conversation. He had tried to harass Fury and Coulson for more information on Black Widow's status, attempted to blackmail and bribe a couple of secretaries, but it turned out useless. One thing was certain though: Black Widow was part of the STRAYS branch and he had to go through Maria no matter what. On the brighter side, medical had cleared him to go out, but since he was still on recovery he was pretty much kicked out of the field or the training range and had no means to evacuate the building frustration.

On impulse, he had picked up a car and driven away from the base. He was now walking through a public park filled with families on the out. It was a nice day, pleasant enough to wander out and enjoy the sun. Kids were playing under the watchful eyes of their parents. While they were particularly noisy, Barton thought the sight was somehow…soothing. He sat on an abandoned bench and watched a group of boys playing soccer. They were all so taken in the game and uncaring of the world around them. He envied them, because at their age _he_ was performing in a circus.

One of the boys stopped running and stared straight at him. Barton looked elsewhere, figuring the kid had sensed his gaze, and he did not want to be taken for a pedophile. That would be the perfect way to finish an awesome week, he thought sarcastically. He couldn't believe the Widow was working for SHIELD. And Maria out of _all_ people hadn't told him.

They had known each other for over thirteen years. He had been her instructor when she joined the organization. They had gone through tough missions together. He had been the one who beat up her ex-boyfriend when he dumped her after she got pregnant. She had been the first to know about Natalie. She had listened to him rant about the ups and downs of their relationship, supported him when he had decided to buy that ring, held him when Natalie Rushman turned out to be Natalia Romanova, and helped him get his act together. He thought they were past secrecy, that they hid nothing from each other. She knew how deeply he was involved in the Black Widow case. How could she conceal such information from him?

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a blond boy, the one who had caught him staring. Barton didn't move from his bench, not particularly bothered. If the kid wanted to talk to him, it was a free world.

"Hi" the boy said. Barton raised an eyebrow behind his sunglasses.

"Hi" he replied flatly, wondering what the kid had in mind. Instead of speaking -or leaving for the matter, the boy tilted his head on the side and kept staring at him. After a full minute, Barton asked: "What?"

"My name's Jeremy." He replied, as if it was supposed to mean something.

"So?"

"You're Clint Barton, right?"

The archer's senses suddenly came to life and he tensed as he took a second, closer look to the kid. Blond sandy wavy hair; a cute face with smooth lines and piercing observant blue eyes. His mouth was curved in a sort of odd amused line. A bell rang in his mind; he had already seen that half-repressed smile somewhere. Now if he could pinpoint where…

"I thought so." The boy said with a sudden triumphant grin.

The cheerfulness in the boy's voice was the only thing that held Barton back from sizing the kid and shaking him senseless.

"Who the hell are you?"

The kid frowned.

"No swearing" he chided with seriousness. "Mom says you can only do during 'oh shit' situations."

Barton felt the urge to pinpoint that 'shit' belonged to the swearing category.

"Do I look like I care?"

"Guess not." The boy admitted with a shrug. "Anyway, I'm your son. Nice to meet you."

* * *

_10 years ago..._

"_Do you ever consider having a family one day?" _

_The question was asked completely out of the blue. Barton could tell he had startled her because Natalie cursed as she dropped the pen she had been playing with, and Natalie never dropped anything. She raised weary eyes to meet his._

"_A family?" she repeated in disbelief. _

"_It was just a question" he replied with a shrug, although a little startled by her defensive tone. She stared at him a while before leaving her chair and sat next to him on the couch. _

"_What brought it up?" her voice was gentle and careful, almost wary._

"_Nothing, I told you it was just a random thought."_

_More or less, he admitted but only to himself. He was seriously considering the long run with her and wanted a glimpse of her opinion on the subject. _

"_Clint, are you considering children?" she asked quietly._

"_Maybe? I mean" he added hastily: "Not now and maybe never because of my job, but…what do you think?"_

_Something flickered in the depth of her eyes. Barton wondered if he had correctly read regret and sadness._

"_I can't have kids." She whispered, lowering her eyes. "My body…I can't…I am not biologically capable of carrying a child." _

"_Oh." He uttered, feeling a little dumb. He hadn't expected that. The redhead shrugged nonchalantly. _

"_Yeah, Mother Nature isn't so kind to everyone." She shook her head, her wavy red hair flying lightly around her face. "I'm sorry if you were expecting to reproduce with me." _

"_Eh…reproduce isn't a term…" he started, but caught the glimpse of amusement in her eyes. "You're messing with me." _

_She leaned forwards and kissed the corner of his mouth. Then, she moved to his ear and whispered:_

"_Can't help it __мой__ястреб__, you are so cute when you're embarrassed."_

_Her hand wandered lower. He cupped her cheek, kissed her and no more words were said for a while. His mind didn't register until they were lying in bed that Natalie had been trying to distract him. It had worked and he didn't think of their conversation again until the clock hit one am. He thought she was sleeping, but the quiet whispered sentence proved him wrong:_

"_If I could have kids, I wouldn't mind having them with you." _

_Barton didn't know how to reply to that, so he just tightened his grip over her waist, buried his face in her hair. She turned around to face him and snuggle closer into his arms. He didn't need to say the words or hear her say them back, he just _knew_ and that was enough for him._

* * *

_His son_? Barton thought in disbelief. _Who is that brat?_

"Sorry kid, I don't have children."

The boy rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Not children, just one child. Me" He retorted, pointing at himself with his forefinger. "Unless you've been sleeping around without using protection and none of the women told you."

Okay, the kid was definitively nuts. In ordinary times, Barton would have brushed him off, but the kid –Jeremy was it?- knew his name. And he had no idea where he could have learned it.

"Again kid, you're wrong."

The boy frowned in displeasure. Once again, Barton was struck by the hint of familiarity there was in his features. Where had he seen that smile, that freaking frown and –and was that a _pout _added in the mix? Who had that way of pouting and frowning at the same time and yet managed to look so adora-

Oh no.

"My name's not kid, it's Jeremy Romanoff." Clint had introduced himself as Jeremy Brandt. She used to mock his resemblance with that actor, Jeremy Renner. Romanoff was the Americanized version of Romanova. "And if you need calculation, I'm eight going on nine next month." Did it mean, at that time, that she was…but she couldn't have children, she had told him herself. "And mom always said I have your eyes. I don't know that part though 'cause you're hiding behind your sunglasses –and they're ugly, by the way. Okay look" he added, putting his hand in his trouser's back pocket. "Mom told me I shouldn't carry that around, but…" he pulled out a slightly used picture and handed it to him. "That's you right?"

Barton hesitantly took the photo and didn't need to glance twice. He remembered that moment perfectly; he and Natalie had been in the park, wandering through the few animations set there. A passer-by had commented on what a cute couple they made and Natalie had looked quite flushed. That had been the first time she had seek comfort by squeezing his hand. She was still unsure of their relationship status, still hesitating at calling them something more than just fuck buddies. He had just laughed and bought her sugar candy to 'make her feel better'. She had called him an idiot and muttered something about her waistline but had eaten the candy anyway.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, quietly and dangerous.

"Mom gave it to me when I asked about you. She said that was the day she knew she liked _liked_ you."

His hand was slightly shaking. He took a third look at the boy, seeking for more specific detail and finding himself terrified as he figured them out. The line of his jaw, the straight nose, the curious yet polite stare and that earlier pout…it was definitively Nat –Romanova's. As for his eyes…he _maybe_ recognized his deep blue, the shape of his eyebrows. The hair color too, although the waviness was Nat's. No, not Nat or Natalie but _Romanova_, he reminded himself. He had no interest in getting attached to her again.

"So I'm right, right?"

Barton stared at the kid, dumbfounded. This was crazy. He didn't have a kid with the Black Widow, he repeated himself. But the age, the name and the picture…Was the kid a spy? He suddenly wondered. At eight, the Black Widow had already gone on a mission or two to lure unsuspecting preys in a bigger web. Using a child who bore a resemblance to both him and Na- Romanova was a sickening thought, but not impossible.

"More convincing then" Jeremy went on absentmindedly, yet a bit frustrated. "You use to call her Nat or sweetheart or babe –that one she hated. And since you didn't tell her your real name till the third month of your relationship, she called you honey when she was angry, дурак when she was in a good mood or мой ястреб when she felt like teasing. She only used your first name during serious conversations."

Barton felt a shiver of fear run through his guts. Unless Romanova had spilled the beans to someone –most likely her handlers or an employer –no-one knew about these details.

"Mom told me everything, y'know, no need to freak out."

"A bit late for that." he muttered. After a thirty-second inner debate, Barton figured he might as well follow the float. Even he couldn't make up such an unbelievable story, so he needed to keep digging a little. If that kid was a trap, then in a trap he would fall and fight his way out. Still, he had to control his heartbeat carefully when he uttered the next words: "Where's your mother?"

"On a mission" the boy replied, looking genuinely disappointed. "Dunno when she'll be back. Could be in two days or two weeks. Most likely two week." Jeremy tilted his head on the side. "Hey I'm just thinking, if you're out here, means you're on a break or off mission right?"

Barton nodded, feeling the kid had ulterior motives behind the innocent question. And heck, how come he knew so much? Then again, Jeremy was potentially the son of one of the best assassins. Romanova would have taught her kid a few things –Barton refused to be considered the sperm donor yet.

"What's your point?"

Barton's doubts were slightly lifted when Jeremy grinned. That kid definitively had his mother's smile.

"I know a great shooting range!"

* * *

**Just an afterthought; I forgot to mention that most of the OC assassins in this fic are taken from other fandoms. Milla Jovova aka Alice the Mercenary is obviously from 'Resident Evil'. Heine and Naoto from a manga called "Dogs: Bullet and Carnage" and Sammuel Delauney from a French series 'Le Chasseur' (the Hunter). Oliver, Irene and Arsene are thieves names and baby Helena is a reference to Selina Kyle (Batman's girlfriend). Obviously they won't have a major role in the fic but offer some background. Just thought you'd like to know :) **

**Review please! (good, bad, I wanna know :P)**


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